The Tree Fort
by Caffiend04
Summary: Daryl and Anya find a tree fort-  "It ain't a fort!" snarls Daryl, "Jesus!  It's a hunting blind!"   Oh, and there's smut.  Please read "A Spa Day For Daryl" & "Peeping Daryl" if you haven't met Anya yet.
1. Chapter 1

The Tree Fort-the continuing adventures of Daryl and Anya.

Chapter One

"It Ain't A Tree Fort!"

Anya and Daryl walked through the woods, the ferns brushing up to

their knees. It was green, lush, and cooler than the campsite.

"Keep moving." warned Daryl.

"Why?" Anya twisted, her gun coming up. She expected to see a Walker, but instead stumbled backwards as a huge black cloud of mosquitos rose eagerly from the ferns. "Erg," she shuddered, "looks like they like the shade, too."

"Yep." Daryl was still plowing through the underbrush.

"Yep," mimicked Anya, lowering her voice and adding the extra twang.

His ice blue eyes narrowed with amusement, but Daryl wouldn't dignify her mocking by turning around. Making his way to a ridge, he rested his crossbow on a rock and waited for Anya to catch up. They stood on the edge of a mature stand of oaks with good shade from the blistering sun.

"You see that?" Daryl asked.

Her green eyes narrowed sweeping back and forth. "What do you see that I don't?" His calloused hand gently reached over and tilted her head up. She grinned as her eyes swept up a thick oak.

"A tree fort?" she gasped gleefully.

The platform was about 20 feet off the ground, 12 by 12 feet with the plywood walls covered with tar paper. The roof was metal-hammered tin scraps.

Anya strolled closer. "What the hell is a tree fort doing out in the middle of the woods?" she asked.

Daryl snorted. "It ain't a _fort_. This here's a hunter's blind. Lots of guys will spend the night to bag a deer when it comes through."

He walked around to the other side. "Here's a ladder."

Anya eyed the pieces of 2x4 nailed to the trunk, forming a rough

access up to the tree fort. They looked at each other and grinned,

checking out the first couple of rungs. "Seems solid," shrugged

Daryl, he put one foot on the wood and then backed off, sweeping a

hand towards Anya.

"Ladies first."

She ostentasiously looked around her. "Hmmm, can't see one." She

laughed and started up the ladder. The tree was huge, but the fort

was stabilized by connections to 3 other trees as well. Anya was

almost to the top when a large, firm hand was placed firmly against

her ass and pushed.

After an undignified squeak, she glared at the grinning hunter below

her. Daryl attempted to look innocent. "Jus' tryin' to help."

"Uh, huh," she said dryly. "Well, since I'm standing here on the

platform, I guess I don't need any more help. You wanna take your

hand off my ass?"

"Sure, babe." he drawled.

Both safely on the platform, they looked at the door, shut and

padlocked. Daryl took a quick visual sweep around the woods,

always keeping watch.

Satisfied there were no Walkers, he said "look for the key. It'll be

hanging on something."

Anya started checking branches. "What makes you think they didn't

take the key with them?" She crouched down to check under the

platform.

"Wait!" ordered Daryl.

Anya froze in place. "Oh, can you see it?" she asked.

"No, but I can see down your shirt and the view is fiiiine," drawled out Daryl.

She rolled her eyes and he laughed. "Let me check something out".

Descending again, Daryl circled one tree after another until he found

it-a rusty nail driven into the trunk with a key hanging from it.

"How the hell did you know that key was here?" she asked.

Daryl laughed. "Who's the card-carrying redneck around here? No

one wants to drag their ass clear out here and forget the key."

He headed back up the ladder and handed over the key. It slipped

into the lock but was hard to turn. "Rust," grunted Daryl, twisting it

back and forth. "Bingo!" It opened, and they pushed in the door.

The sunlight followed them into the little room, their movements

stirring up dust. There were several sleeping bags neatly rolled and

stacked against one wall. Canned goods lined a shelf with a pile of

candles. There was a note pinned to the wall by the door, addressed

to someone named "Fred."

Anya plucked the note off and opened it, sitting down on the pile of

sleeping bags. "Hmmmm," she mused, "seems Fred was going to

use the tree fort at some time, and the owner had left some

instructions about good fishing spots."

"Don't think Fred made it," Daryl said, reading over her shoulder.

"Look at that stuff about some caves about a mile away. We'll want

to check that out." He folded the paper carefully and put it in his

shirt pocket, squatting down next to her on her nest of sleeping

bags. They sat in silence for a moment, soaking it in. With a

sudden movement, Anya swung a long leg over him and straddled his

lap, hands on his shoulders.

"This has to be JUST ours" she said, "our secret fort."

Daryl smiled, looking at her lovely face lit up with excitement, eyes

shining. He'd never seen her this way, face open and guileless. He

nodded. "Sure," he said gruffly.

Anya leaned in with a quick kiss on his lips and stood up to wander

around the tiny room, touching everything, absently counting the

candles. Opening the little shuttered window, she stood in the

sunlight, her back to Daryl.

"I had a tree fort like this when I was a kid." Anya said slowly. "My

sister and I would go there and pull up the rope ladder when things

got ugly at the house." She shook off the memory and turned

around. "We need some things," she said decisively, "like a

machete, extra shells, that 12 gauge back at my cabin...and some

curtains." Anya suddenly looked self-conscious. "I'm playing house,

here."

Daryl stood and walked past her, one hand trailing across her lower

back as he looked out the window. "We could run a couple of zip

lines," he said thoughtfully, "two different directions so we can get

away fast in case of trouble. Maybe some highway flares to get us

some extra time by blinding the Walkers."

That open, guileless look was back on Anya's face as she wrapped

her arms around his shoulders and kissed him slowly. Putting her

lips to his ear, she whispered, "if I am ever lost, I'll be right here."

She was holding him tightly, like she was hanging on for dear life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

What Do You Miss The Most?

It was a week later when nearly everyone in camp found themselves relaxing around a small fire. "Not worth bringin' a bunch of damn Walkers down on us!" snarled Daryl when Glenn attempted to slide another log onto the fire.

T-Dog and Calvin were rocking back and forth, looking extremely pleased with themselves.

"What're you up to?" Lori asked as she settled on a log bench next to her husband. "All four kids are finally asleep," she reassured Rick, then looked back to the grinning duo. "Two of you looked like the cat that caught the canary, what's up?"

Calvin's adam's apple was bobbing excitedly. "Well, now that everyone's here-" he started.

"We found some premium hootch on that last supply run." Interrupted T-Dog, whipping several bottles from behind his broad back with a dramatic flourish.

There was applause and excited voices until Rick cut through.

"If we're letting down our guard tonight with cocktail hour here, we need to post at least 3 guards. Any volunteers?"

There were none, so a brisk drawing of straws removed a resigned Carol and Dale from the action, along with a deeply aggrieved Calvin.

"You're gonna save some for us later, right guys?"

He wasn't quite whining, but the tone was close. Calvin and Dale gloomily picked up flashlights and trudged off to the RV for guard duty.

Shane reached over and grabbed a bottle of whiskey in one meaty fist, ignoring the plastic cup proffered by Andrea. Everyone poured their favorite, except for Daryl and Anya, who swapped a bottle of tequila between them.

As the laughter grew and the fire died down, the conversation turned to everyone's favorite game of: "What do you miss the most?" It was often played around camp, and tonight the usual comments of family and friends were skipped over for luxuries.

"Hot water." sighed Anya.

"Cold beer." from a wistful Daryl.

"Facebook," lamented Glenn. "Man, I was up to 550 friends!"

Chocolate, washing machines, indoor plumbing and chocolate made their debut before Ellen spoke up.

"I miss the feeling of being safe." she added softly.

Everyone nodded together, the comment had a crushing effect on the conversation. Ellen finished the rest of her red wine before piping up again.

"And sex. I miss sex."

Shane choked on the mouthful of whiskey he was swallowing, and Andrea and T-Dog's mouths dropped open. Shy, mousey Ellen crept around the camp, usually not looking at anyone in the eye and still experiencing the night terrors that keep her rooming with Anya, the only one who seemed to be able to calm her down.

"Damn, girl!" said Lori appreciatively, "we've got to get you liquored up more often!"

The seed had been planted, and it seemed the fire circle had become more like a speed-dating event. Tipsy survivors eyed highly inappropriate choices meaningfully and their numbers began to thin as couples crept off.

After 30 minutes or so, the only one left by the fire was Shane, gloomily poking at the flames and drinking the last of his bottle. Tents, cabins and the RV were suddenly occupied, the night filled with faint groans and muffled screams.

Daryl was edging Anya torwards his cabin when she stopped and took his hand, green eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Let's go to the tree fort," she whispered, "it'll be quieter."

He rolled his eyes as a muffled "Oh, God, yes!" came from Rick and Lori's cabin.

"That's a good idea." he said.

Anya eagerly pulled on his hand in the direction of the forest, and Daryl pulled back.

"By way of the lake," he grinned. "I been hunting all day. Unless you get hot from the smell of squirrel, I gotta take a dip."

Anya leaned forward and with an elaborate sniff, agreed.

By the time the freshly scrubbed twosome made it to the huge oak the housed their fort, the clouds that had been hovering all day suddenly sprang to action. Thunder and lightening began rumbling as they scooted up the ladder and opened the door. Anya stood back against the wall with a grin as Daryl lit the candles. He straightened to see that she'd been there without him.

The bed was rolled out with pillows and quilts laid carefully on top. There were wildflowers in a jar and even a contraband 6 pack of beer.

Daryl grinned and shook his head. "When did you have time to do all this?"

She shrugged one tan shoulder, "oh, I took a minute here and there."

Raising a hand to the back of his neck, Daryl made sure to look around carefully to give her the pleasure of her surprise. There was her 12 gauge shotgun in one corner, resting on top of a huge coil of rope and some highway flares. She'd even fitted the two tiny windows with nylon netting to keep out the bloodthirsty Georgia mosquitos.

Taking his rough hand with her smooth one, Anya led him over to the bed. They both flopped back, staring at the ceiling as the raindrops started hitting the tin roof. The sound was welcome-it meant a respite tomorrow from the 90+ heat seething through the last week.

One booted foot rose to click the deadbolt in place as Daryl turned his head to look in Anya's eyes, both still on their backs. The rain increased, beginning to hammer on the patchy tin roof as she rose to her knees and unbuttoned her shirts, eyes still never leaving his ice blue ones. The cooler air blowing through the tiny windows made her nipples stiffen as the candle flames wavered. Throwing her shirt casually over one shoulder, Anya licked her lips as she shimmied out of her shorts and undies. Daryl was just yanking the laces free on his boots, so she helped him from his sleeveless shirt and jeans.

Sinking into the bed, both landed on their backs again, the only parts touching were their linked hands. The downpour on the roof became deafening as the rain hit harder. Both rolled to their sides, looking at each other but still linked only by their hands. Lips so close they breathed each other's exhale.

Anya reached first, raising her hand and running one finger along his firm lower lip. She said something-but with the noise from the roof Daryl couldn't hear.

"What?" he mouthed. She shook her head and smiled. Eyes still locked and breathing synced, Daryl leaned forward and bit her full lower lip, worrying it gently between his teeth. Anya returned the favor as the noise of the rain on the tin roof kept bulding along with their breathing.

It was almost as if a referee blew his whistle-both pounced on the other. Daryl felt like he couldn't bite, suck, grab or squeeze every inch of her body enough. There was a strange security in their nest-no Walker could climb, and they were free to be completely absorbed in the other. Greedy as she usually was with him, Anya was slow and leisurely this time, taking long kisses, gentle strokes and tastes of his thick arms and muscled chest. She ran the point of her tongue lightly along the scars and burns that littered the front of him. He'd never offered an explanation of the scars that curved cruelly through his upper body. He didn't need to. But every time Anya kissed one she wished briefly for a long and lingering death for his drunken father.

With a groan, Daryl finally pushed her onto her back again and grabbed her thighs, sending her knees torwards her head. The flat of his tongue ran along her-starting at her ass and slowly wiggling his tongue to her clit. It was only a couple of pleasurable minutes before Anya squirmed free.

"Whiskers." She explained, "I'm so sensitive now!"

Rolling him onto his back, the Amazon returned the favor and slid him into her mouth, sucking and stroking him. Finally too aroused to remain still she slid her lower body upwards, straddling his face as she continued to suck him greedily. Daryl pushed and rubbed his lips back and forth against her pink flesh, grinning at the sight of her from behind. "All here for the taking," he thought as he ran his calloused hands down her smooth hips to hold her in place against his mouth.

Thunder rumbled from the sky, drowning the moans he knew were coming from her lips. Daryl could feel the vibration of them through his cock, so hard now that the sensation was almost overwhelming. He slid up from under her and shoved himself in from behind. Still balancing on her hands and knees, Anya gasped again and pushed back. Smooth, sliding in easily and pulling back reluctantly, rocking against each other until the lighting and thunder seemed to crash directly over their tree fort.

Daryl rose up to his knees, driving in and out faster, holding so tight to her hips that Anya's knees rose slightly from the bed. He recognized by the sharp arching of her spine that she was close-reaching a hand underneath her, he slid two fingers along her clit. The extra stimulation was too much, she gasped and tighted around his driving cock until the effort of pushing through the wetness of Anya's orgasm sent Daryl into his own. With a wicked grin, she carefully reached back and gently tugged on his balls as Daryl came. He groaned and rocked back and forth, gently sinking them both to bedding again.

Once again on their backs, Anya reached out to twine her fingers in Daryl's again as she dozed off. For one sleepy moment, Daryl couldn't figure out what the warmth in his chest meant. Just as his consciousness slipped into slumber, he realized what it was.

Safety.


End file.
